One Last Thing
by LastCorsair
Summary: Weiss Schnee has one last thing she needs to say to her father.
1. Chapter 1

" _ **I'm not your pet**_ _ **  
**_ _ **not another thing you own**_ _ **  
**_ _ **I was not born guilty of your crimes**_ _ **  
**_ _ **Your riches and your influence**_ _ **  
**_ _ **can't hold me anymore**_ _ **  
**_ _ **I won't be possessed**_ _ **  
**_ _ **burdened by your royal test**_ _ **  
**_ _ **I will not surrender, this life is mine**_ _ **"**_

Jacques Schnee was taking his breakfast with his son, Whitley in one of the smaller dining rooms of Schnee Manor. The two of them were due at the office soon, Whitley learning what he would one day need to know to take over the Schnee Dust Company. Jacques frowned. In many ways, he was less impressed with Whitley than he had been with his daughters. If he had to admit it, Whitley was something of a spineless sycophant. But both of his daughters had made their defiance of him quite clear. First Winter and then Weiss had broken ties with him, making their own way in the world. He was fairly certain that Winter was still in the Atlesian military, a myrmidon taking orders from General Ironwood. Weiss, he had no clue where she was at or what she was doing; as long as she kept out of his way and didn't embarrass the family name, he didn't truly care.

He supposed that the fire that both his daughters had but his son lacked might have been useful if he'd been able to channel it, harness it, but in retrospect, there had been little hope of that. His mistake had been to allow the girls more freedom than had been wise; fathers are sometimes overly indulgent with daughters, and in this case, it had been his undoing.

Jacques saw Whitley pause in reading the paper, scanning the page in front of him slowly and carefully. "Something of interest?"

Whitley shook his head. "I don't think it would be of much interest to you, Father. Someone I know is getting married; they took out a full-page announcement in the paper. I haven't spoken with them in some time, but I would like to attend the wedding if I am invited."

Jacques nodded. Keeping up appearances was important; a Schnee was expected to meet certain social obligations. "It still might be a good idea to call them and issue congratulations even if you don't get invited to the wedding. And remember to give some thought to a wedding gift if you're invited. Make sure it reflects both you and the recipients."

Whitley nodded and continued reading the paper, marking Jacques assumed was the wedding announcement with a finger.

One of the security staff whispered into Jacques's ear. "Sir, your daughter is here, should we let her in?"

"Which daughter?"

"W-" the man began, only to be interrupted as Weiss strode into the room, rendering both question and answer irrelevant. "Father, Whitley, good morning. I'll admit I left under somewhat less than the best of circumstances, but I hardly expected to be met at the gate with armed resistance." She assumed a waiting posture, arms crossed in front of her. Behind her waited a black-haired Faunus woman with cat ears; Jacques vaguely recognized her as one of Weiss's teammates from Beacon Academy. Probably here in case Weiss intended something barbaric and rude.

Jacques stood, adjusting his collar. "I think that will be all," he said, glaring at the security staffer. Apparently, he needed to reassess the security staff; he was certainly about to have some fresh openings. "Weiss, what is the meaning of this intrusion? Please, you and your... companion should have a seat."

"Oh don't bother bringing out the false civility or hospitality, _Father_." Weiss's tone made the word a curse. "I'm just here to deliver some personal news, then I'll be on my way. It's been years since we spoke, and if _someone,_ " her eyes darted toward the black-haired woman for a moment, "hadn't insisted, I wouldn't be here at all."

"I see. Very well, deliver your news."

"I'm getting married."

"To whom? I can't imagine you meet very many suitable candidates, given your the life you lead and your line of work."

"Oh, they're very 'suitable' indeed, but only by my standards, not yours." She gestured, and the woman standing behind her stepped forward, interlacing her fingers with Weiss's. "Father, Whitley, it gives me great pleasure to introduce my fiancee, Blake Belladonna."

Jacques froze in horror for a moment; from the corner of his eye, he could see Whitley start to grin, then slip back into his usual neutral expression. "You can't do this! I forbid it; it's a disgrace to the Schnee family name!" Jacques roared, stepping around the table toward his daughter.

"Shut. Up. _Father_." Weiss hissed, every word impacting him like a gunshot. "You gave up any say in how I ran my life years ago, when you stole my legacy from me, made me a prisoner in my own home. My life is mine now, and I'll live it as I please, with whoever I want. Blake may not be 'suitable'," at this, she released Blake's hand to make air quotes with her fingers, "but we love each other, and to me, that's what matters. So this is your last warning: If you can't accept the life I choose, stay the hell out of it. Oh, and one more thing." Wiess produced a trio of envelopes with a flourish. "Wedding invitations, not that I really expect any of you to attend. One for you, Father, one for you, Whitley, and one for Mother, assuming she's not yet too drunk to accept it."

Whitley took his envelope, opening it and scanning the invitation inside. "Actually, I think I will attend. It's not every day my older sister gets married. I'll make sure Mother gets her as well. And I do hope we'll find time for lunch sometime before the wedding; it's been some time since we spoke, Weiss."

Jacques stared at him aghast. "Don't tell me you're actually _condoning_ this, Whitley."

"I don't think condone is the word I'd use, 'accept' perhaps. As Weiss points out, we don't have any control over her life anymore."

Weiss nodded, a slightly puzzled look on her face. "We'll... have to have that lunch sometime soon I think, Whitley. In any case, I've got other invitations to deliver, and other friends to notify."

"This isn't over, Weiss!" Jacques shouted.

"No, the wedding hasn't happened yet, after all," Weiss tossed over her shoulder as she and Blake left.

Jacques Schnee stood there, fists curled in rage, then turned back to the dining table only find Whitley standing and putting on his coat. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"Shopping, I think. After all, a wedding gift should reflect both the giver and the recipients." Whitley flipped the paper open and spun it around before departing, leaving Jacques staring at the full-page announcement of Blake and Weiss's wedding.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Weiss woke to the sound of rain thundering down. She shivered and snuggled further under the blankets next to Blake. Fall and spring in Atlas were both cold and wet; Weiss much preferred the weather in summer or winter. She and Blake were still arguing about when to have the wedding; maybe she could talk Blake into a late spring date? Weiss was just drifting back off to sleep, Blake's gentle scent soothing her mind, when she heard again the noise that had woken her in the first place, a _thump-thump-thump_ from the direction of the front door. "Schnee, open up! The doorbell's broken and it's pouring out here!" came a familiar voice she couldn't place at first, muffled by the wind and rain.

Muttering darkly under her breath, Weiss rose and pulled on a robe over her nightgown. Blake stirred, one amber eye sliding open a crack to protest Weiss's departure. "Hrngh?" she managed, making Weiss smile. Neither her nor Blake were exactly morning people, which normally worked out unless they had to be somewhere early. Then Weiss would be the one up first, wakefulness fueled by coffee, tempting Blake out of bed by whatever means seemed appropriate that morning. She leaned over to kiss Blake softly on the cheek, folding the blankets back over her. "Someone is at the door. No need for you to get up yet, hopefully." Blake muttered something even more incoherent and patted the bed where Weiss had laid before closing her eyes once more.

 _Probably wants me to come back to bed,_ Weiss thought as she marched toward the front door. _Not that I can blame her; uninterrupted mornings have been rare of late. And she can't be enjoying the cold, Atlas is a lot colder than anywhere else she's ever been._ Weiss checked the door camera and was surprised at who she recognized there. She opened the door to see Flynt Coal and his partner, Neon... damn, she was drawing a blank on the girl's last name "Flynt? Neon? I haven't seen the two of you since the Fall of Beacon. What are you doing here?"

"Can we explain inside, please? It's pouring out here, and you're not exactly dressed for the weather." Weiss blushed as she remembered she was just wearing a robe over her nightgown. "Sorry," she muttered as she ushered them into the rental house. "We were still in bed."

"We wouldn't have bothered you this early, but we flew all night. Figured we might as well see if you were up. He didn't give us your scroll code, you see."

"'He' who? You still haven't told me why you're here." Weiss crossed her arms, shivering; cold normally didn't bother her much, not with her semblance, but cold and _wet_ , that was a different story.

"These days, we work for General Ironwood, not as part of the military, mind you, but as independent contractors, solving problems that he can't be seen to be directly involved in. Silver Hand business, got it?" Flynt hung up his longcoat on the coat rack before sitting down in the living room. "He sent us your way. Said you'd pissed of your old man something fierce, and that Team RWBY might be able to use some backup. Thought that since we've actually met, it'd be less obvious than some of the other people he could have sent."

Weiss nodded thoughtfully. The Silver Hand was the new organization opposing Salem and what little remained of her forces, replacing Oscar's tiny circle of those in the know. Cross-kingdom, even operating in Menagerie, investigating any hint as to what Salem was doing. But how did Ironwood know what had passed between Weiss and her father yesterday? The only people there had been her, Blake, her father, and Whitley. Unless Ironwood had her father under surveillance, which was completely possible. Jacques Schnee had been restless under the new Faunus rights laws, doing everything he could to get around them. "Alright," she sighed. "Let me make some coffee and tea. What exactly did Ironwood tell you?"

"Just that you'd made your dad really mad, you could probably use some backup in case things get fun, and to get here as soon as possible. Oh, and your address." Neon had claimed one of the armchairs, feet kicking in the air, as she bounced her head back and forth to a beat only she could hear.

"It's complicated..." Weiss began, only to be interrupted by a "Weiss...?" as Blake emerged from the bedroom, eyes still heavy with sleep. "I heard voices..."

"Ironwood somehow heard about what happened yesterday and sent us some backup. This is Flynt Coal and Neon...Katt, is it? Yang and I faced them in the Vytal Festival before the Fall of Beacon."

"So," Flynt took a sip of the coffee Weiss had just handed him, "what exactly did you do to piss off Jacques Schnee bad enough that Ironwood figured you needed backup? Not that I care what, you know I don't like your dad, but I think we need to know what sort of mess Neon and I are getting into."

"I told him I was getting married," Weiss said, handing Neon her cup of coffee.

"And he doesn't like your husband-to-be, something like that? I dig it. So who's the lucky man that thawed the Ice Queen? Must be a heck of a guy."

"You have no idea," Weiss murmured as she handed a cup of tea to Blake with a kiss on the cheek.

Flynt froze, embarrassed. "Damn, sorry. Shouldn't have assumed." Neon giggled. "Flynt, you're dense. When we came in, there was one bedroom door open, the same one Blake came out of. I thought they might be sharing a room."

"Now," Weiss took a seat next to Blake, ''you can see why my father objects to Blake and I getting married. I'm sure some reporter was trying to get him to comment before his morning coffee was cold."

"How do you figure that?" Flynt looked over his sunglasses at Weiss.

"We took out a full-page announcement in the _Atlas Times_ yesterday," Blake grinned, flicking her ears.

"Damn, you two really decided to take the bull by the horns, didn't you." Flynt shook his head, grinning. "So, wedding planning things plus whatever obstacles your dad can throw in the way. Any idea of what level of opposition he'll put up?"

"Anything and everything he thinks he can get away with, without damaging 'the Schnee name.'" Weiss shook her head. "It's not even his, really; he took the family name when he married my mother."

"I dig it. So, other than watching out for his tricks, nothing we can do right now. Brings us back to wedding things. Any of that handled yet? Anything we can help with?"

Blake shook her head. "No, unfortunately. Coco said she'd take care of what we'd wear, but other than that, we're haven't started planning."

"Coco Adel, the fashionista leader of Team CFVY? Then you're in good hands. She even managed to make Neon look elegant once."

"Hey!" Neo laughed, pitching a throw pillow at Flynt. "I look plenty elegant when I want to, I just don't care most of the time."

"As for planning this circus-and don't fool yourselves, this wedding is going to be a circus-I think I've got a line on someone who can help. I just need to call in a favor is all."

* * *

Ember Coal liked to think she knew trouble coming when she saw it. After her brother had run off to become a Huntsman, she'd waited tables, done landscaping work, anything and everything she could do to keep the family afloat. Her current job might not be the most prestigious, but it paid pretty well, nice and steady, paychecks coming like clockwork.

So when her no-good brother walked into her boss's office with three women behind him, one of whom looked like she'd fallen into a box of crayons, she stood right up and said, "Flynt, you walk right back out that door. I don't want anything to do with you or these, these, _floozies_ with you."

Blake laughed. "Floozies? Who talks like that, really?"

"Ember's got an interesting vocabulary, likes to talk fancy, thinks it makes her sound like she's somebody important," Flynt laughed. "Relax, sis, I'm here on a job, more or less. I just want to talk to your boss for a moment. She says no, we'll be on our way."

"Flynt, give me one good reason I should-"

"Because I asked you to, dahling." Edna Mode stood in the doorway to her office, cigarette holder in one hand. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt this touching family moment, but I was coming out to ask you if we had the flower invoice for the Poe wedding yet and heard raised voices."

Ember took a deep breath, coming to terms with the fact that there was no way she was going to keep her brother from talking to her boss while silently calling down dark curses on his name. "No, ma'am. I can give them a call later today and see if they have it ready. It's going to be high; they made a lot of changes. Miss Mode, this is my brother Flynt, he's a Huntsman, I believe the woman with the pink hair is one of his teammates, Neon, and I'm not sure who the other two are."

" _Tch_ , you must not have read the society pages yesterday, then. I recognize them from the full-page wedding announcement in yesterday's _Times_. Blake Belladonna is it, and this is obviously Weiss Schnee, the estranged one-time heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. Not that you haven't made a name for yourself as a Huntress, my dear; I hardly pay attention to such things, but I think there might be a lizard in the deepest part of the Vacuo desert that hasn't heard about your exploits. So, what can I do for you, Flynt?"

"Not what you can do for me, ma'am, but what you can do for Blake and Weiss. They need a wedding planner, and you're one of the best in the business. And all I was going to ask you for, Ember, was to let me ask your boss to help. That's it." Flynt looked over his sunglasses at Ember. "I've been sending checks to mama when I get paid; has she been getting them?"

"She...she said she wasn't as tight as she once was, that there was unexpected money coming to her, sometimes. That you?"

"Might be, might be. Think she'll have me over for dinner? A lot of catching up to do."

"Maybe. I'll ask."

"Dahlings, family reunions aside—and this is touching, Ember, I like this side of you, always so formal, you need to relax—there is a commission being offered to me, and I of course accept. If for no other reason than as a simple jab at your father's odious self-importance, Weiss. May I call you Weiss? Please, call me Edna." Edna circled the monochrome pair, giving them an appraising eye. "So, have you made any arrangements, yet? What do I have to work with? What are you wearing? Your combat gear, dresses, something else? Nothing at all? I've seen that done more than once, with mixed results."

"Our-our friend Coco said she'd handle what we were wearing, but we don't know what she's come up with yet," Blake stammered. "We haven't figured out anything else yet."

"No need to be shy, Blake dahling, right here and right now I work for you and Weiss. Oh, you are going to make such a gorgeous couple, I can see it now. Hmm, you are Huntresses, so that gives me an idea or two right off the top of my head. I may have to call in a favor though. And if that's Coco Adel you're talking about, you're in good hands. I'll have to call her later today so we can coordinate. Dress and decor mustn't clash, it ruins the big day. Now-" Edna rattled on, machine-gunning ideas at Blake and Weiss.

Bake got even paler than usual as she met Weiss's eyes. What had they unleashed?


End file.
